Abandon the Plan:Documenting Cho Tan An Market
- RGMphoto
- Mar 16
- 3 min read
How a Grab bike detour turned into the most honest morning I've spent with a camera in Vietnam.
Sometimes the best photographs come from the plans you never made. I was on a Grab bike headed into Hoi An Old Town this week, itinerary set, locations scouted, intentions firmly in place when something out the corner of my eye made me say stop whilst on my Grab bike. Cho Tan A Market. I'd never heard of it. Hadn't planned for it. But even at 30km/h, the colour and movement bleeding out of the market's entrance was enough to make every pre-planned shot feel suddenly irrelevant. I asked the driver to pull over, said a quick thank you, and stepped off the bike into one of the most authentic scenes I've encountered anywhere in Vietnam.
Local markets in Vietnam operate on their own internal logic a rhythm of restocking, haggling, preparation and pause that runs independently of tourist schedules. Cho Tan An is no exception. By the time I arrived in the morning, it was already deep into its own world. Vendors arranged pyramids of dragon fruit and fresh local produce. Women crouched over portable gas burners, steam rising into the overhead lights. The sound of choppers on wooden boards, the smell of fish sauce and morning broth, the narrow aisles packed just enough to demand you slow down. None of this was waiting for me. It was just happening which is exactly what you need as a street photographer.
As always I had the X100VI and nothing else no zoom, no bag of lenses, no backup body. That constraint turned out to be everything. The fixed 35mm equivalent focal length forces a certain intimacy. You have to get close enough to mean it. In tight market aisles, that proximity builds quickly; vendors notice you, assess you, and if you're patient and respectful largely ignore you. That's the window. The X100VI's small form factor is genuinely disarming in these environments. It doesn't look like a professional camera to most people. It doesn't perform like one either in the conspicuous sense no mirror slap, no aggressive beep, no intimidating lens hood. You become part of the scene rather than an intrusion into it.
Cho Tan An is a covered wet market and outdoor fruit and veg spills out onto the streets and side alleys which means the lighting is immediately interesting and challenging in equal measure. Fluorescent overheads mix with natural light pouring through gaps in the roof and open sides the kind of mixed colour temperature that can look chaotic or cinematic depending on how you handle it. I leaned into the inconsistency rather than fighting it. High contrast, deep shadows on one side of a face, blown-out produce in the background. The imperfection is the point. Textures are everywhere: the glistening skin of whole fish laid out on ice, the dry weave of bamboo baskets, the worn fabric of a vendor's apron. Wherever the eye lands, there's something to look at. The discipline becomes restraint choosing what not to photograph.
I've photographed plenty of planned locations in Vietnam. The famous alleyways of Hoi An Old Town, the lantern-lit streets at dusk, the perfectly composed heritage houses. They're beautiful and worth your time. But there's a particular quality to images made from pure instinct when the camera is in your hand because something pulled you there rather than because you checked it off a list. Cho Tan An wasn't on my list. It didn't exist in my morning. And perhaps because of that, I arrived with no expectations and no pressure just curiosity. The photographs feel different because of it. Less composed, more alive.
